The Highwayman's Legacy
by Vaneria Potter
Summary: Some love stories are brief and fleeting, but others echo through the ages. Still more are unspoken, unfulfilled, until the right circumstances. When Tina and Lizzy decided to go on a tour of Historical and Haunted locations, they weren't expecting to become the instruments that would resolve a love story that had waited centuries to be told.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer:_ _I__ do not own 'The Highwayman' , by Alfred Noyes. More's the Pity._

_Summary: Some love stories are brief and fleeting, but others echo through the ages. Still more are unspoken, unfulfilled, until the right circumstances. When Tina and Lizzy decided to go on a tour of Historical and Haunted locations, they weren't expecting to become the instruments that would resolve a love story that had waited centuries to be told._

* * *

**Chapter One.**

_Rage._

_Rage and overwhelming grief, consuming him._

_Grief, at the loss of half of his heart, of the pure, innocent soul that loved fiercely and was loyal to the death. Rage, against those who had sinned greater than any crime he himself had committed, rage that blocked out thought and reason and left only a thirst for revenge._

_Four foot of razor-sharp steel pointed up at the sky, a sky as grey and cold as a world without his love, his scream of anguish a wordless vow of retribution._

_He saw __them__ ahead, and…_

Tina swore loudly as she jerked and cracked her head on the raised lid of the tour bus storage trailer.

Of an entire several miles of road, around which a small town had sprung up between then and now, a violent death just had to have occurred on exactly the spot where she had stepped to return her suitcase onto the trailer. Why had she thought that this trip would be a good idea, rather than a Terrible Life Choice, again?

A pair of gentle hands guided her back out from under the lid, brushing aside Tina's blonde hair as the owner of the hands gently probed for a goose-egg. Tina swore again as they found it, and could almost hear the disapproving frown. "That hurt!"

The brunette beside her frowned. "It isn't serious, and there's a butcher across the road. I'll see if I can't get some ice for it."

She was already walking away, automatically looking for the almost non-existent traffic between the rows of shops, before Tina could protest that she didn't want ice on her head if it had been anywhere near a dead animal, and the blonde woman sighed. Oh, right, that was why she had agreed to the trip.

Christina Barnes was on a tour of 'Historical and Haunted Places of England and Scotland' because her best friend Elizabeth Hall was a history nut and had managed to find a two-for-one deal at the travel agents that coincided with the two weeks leave (plus weekends, as a thanks for taking her holiday in late spring, rather than summer when everyone else was fighting for annual leave) and Tina's current client going on a month-long holiday of their own.

Tina didn't need to be psychic to lay even odds that the two-for-one deal was something to do with the Managers of the travel company owing their son's graduation from university to five years of Tina's tutoring and Lizzy's plethora of random but relevant facts as extra credit when he ran into assignment trouble.

This was good, because being psychic had caused Tina enough problems already.

Oh, she wasn't the kind of psychic that told fortunes at fairs, or did a bit of research before holding séances for the particularly gullible, though she admired those ones for managing to keep a straight face through the whole thing. Nor was she the kind of psychic who claimed to be able to divine the location of riches by reading auras and speaking to the dead – though to be fair, those psychics could listen to the examples of centuries of charlatans and read body language in order to find riches by staging 'reality' TV shows and telling rich people or large audiences what they wanted to see and hear.

No, Tina's talent stopped at flashes of memory at places where someone had died horribly or in a particularly spectacular fashion, and the occasional ghost or restless spirit.

* * *

That was why the Tower of London had landed firmly on Tina's "Never Again List" after exactly five minutes, when she was forcefully reminded that a surprisingly large number of Historically Famous places are famous because of some kind of horrible tragedy, great battle or supposed haunting that took place there.

With the number of people who had been tortured, imprisoned and/or executed at the Tower of London, Tina had been lucky to go five meters without metaphorically bumping into a ghost, nearly all of whom were thrilled to explain their fate to someone who could actually listen. Whether the listener wanted to hear it or not.

If she had been born only a few centuries later, Queen Anne Boleyn could have been an absolute powerhouse of a woman, and while Henry VIII's second queen said nothing against her husband, Tina would bet that her death had less to do with suspected adultery and more to do with treason being the only way for the King to be rid of her, after breaking with Rome and creating his own Church to divorce Katherine and marry Anne in the first place, not to mention the Oath of Succession.

Guy Fawkes had some amusingly creative insults for and about King James, and a number of comments about the fellow conspirator who had been fool enough to give them away in an easily-intercepted letter that could be used as evidence, and it was interesting that his cheeky smile was almost exactly the same as those masks. She still found herself mentally cursing him to hell and back half an hour later. For a man who had lasted several days before even giving up his real name, Guy Fawkes was a surprising chatterbox.

And he wasn't even the worst.

Tina could have cheerfully gone the rest of her life without knowing those things about Mary Queen of Scots, and it was a pity that no academic panel in the world would accept 'a ghost told me' when asking for sources for her information about the true fate of the Princes in the Tower.

Tina had feigned sickness when they were scheduled to visit Newgate Prison, though she did feel a bit guilty about Lizzy's insistence on staying behind with her. Tina had convinced one of the other tourists to get a historical guide book, complete with photos, as an apology.

She didn't need to feign sickness the first time they visited the site of a battle, where she turned green and threw up what felt like a week's worth of meals. Severed limbs and head, bodies with their guts spilling out from a belly-wound, or shredded by shrapnel, or flattened by a boulder… it was not remotely a pretty sight, and not worth the glory that the centuries-ago bards sang about.

The only bright side that Tina could see was that it gave her an excuse to stay on the bus the next time, after convincing Lizzy that it was an overactive imagination and that she should go on and give Tina the edited version when the tour group got back.

That was one of the best things about having Lizzy for a friend. Lizzy would worry, and had an sixth sense to rival Tina's for when someone wasn't telling the whole truth, but if you didn't want to talk about something, she wouldn't press. With Lizzy, Tina didn't have to worry about making up excuses for why she randomly shrieked and jumped away after leaning against a tree that had been used as an impromptu gallows, and since there were a few places where the hauntings were benign or interesting, she didn't have to use the 'sick' excuse often enough for Lizzy to become concerned about chronic illness.

That didn't stop the rest of the tour group from giving her funny looks, but since Lizzy didn't look worried, most of them just assumed that it was some kind of random spasmic twitch or food allergy.

At least this time, any disorientation could be blamed on a crack to the head, rather than an awkward explanation that she had experienced a semi-vision of someone dying.

Lizzy was looking ever-so-slightly amused and mostly sympathetic, as opposed to concern that made Tina feel guilty for not telling her the truth. Lizzy raised an eyebrow in a silent question. Tina shrugged, conveying that yes, her head was killing her, but she would be fine. They had been friends long enough that not all communication needed to be verbal, and body language would do. Tina changed the topic, rubbing her head. "What did the driver say?"

Lizzy glanced up at the sky, where clouds had gone from just blanketing the sky to looming with intent to storm. "Well, the Gap-Year students had better show up on time for once, because the bus is only going to wait five minutes, instead of half an hour while they finish trying on 'just one more dress'. There isn't even a hostel with any vacancies at this stop, so he wants to get to the next town before the storm hits."

Five of their fellow tourists were ex-students who had just graduated High School, and were taking a year off before they went to Uni or got a job or whatever else. They also had a bad habit of being chronically late when it came to meeting points and times. Tina and Lizzy had time-keeping skills bad enough that they normally sympathized and didn't complain, but no-one wanted to get stuck out in the middle of a storm, either.

Tina shrugged. That was another thing they had missed while researching the whole vacation. "Serves us right for timing our trip at the same time as a national music festival, I guess. It shouldn't take too long to get to the next stop, though."

Why the town council hadn't considered that when planning the music festival was beyond Tina's understanding. The café where they had eaten lunch even had a betting pool on how many tents were expected to ruin the landscape. Lizzy looked back up at the sky. "If the weather holds. The driver said that there's a tourist town about halfway between, if the storm hits before we get to the stop we're supposed to be spending the night at.

Tina had already banged her head less than five minutes ago, so she stopped herself from doing it deliberately when Lizzy continued, her eyes bright with anticipation. "We were meant to be stopping there anyway, because of a local legend that says you can sometimes see the ghost of a Highwayman riding to meet his love."

Sometimes, Tina wondered if she should tell Lizzy about being psychic, if only so that Lizzy would stop telling her these things. She settled for rolling her eyes instead. "You're a ridiculous romantic, you know that?"

Lizzy stuck out her tongue, not even slightly bothered by the affectionate exasperation in Tina's voice. "And you're a hopeless pessimist, so it evens out."

About half of the tour group were back when Tina had got the flash of memory, and more had slowly trickled in as they were talking. The sound of running feet made them look up to see the Gap-Year students approaching at a sprint, probably having seen the sky and drawn the appropriate conclusions. Moving aside to avoid being trampled, the two young women exchanged grins and boarded the bus, quietly bickering over who had the window seat.

* * *

Unfortunately, the weather did not hold, and to make matters worse, the bus broke down a mile before they reached the tourist village, which meant that they could sit and wait for hours before Roadside Assistance answered their call and got out to them, or walk to the village for an early dinner at the Inn house.

Tina had been wary of Inn houses and 'Old Town' restaurants ever since two days ago at 'The Rogue's Destiny', where she hadn't understood Lizzy's remark about an interesting play on words until they walked into the outdoor dining area… that had been the execution yard of the town gaol until it burned down and was re-built by a family of Danish immigrants.

Apparently, 'Destiny' had been used interchangeably with 'Doom', so anyone who _had _been up-to-date with the building's history could interpret the name as 'The Criminal's Fate'. Lizzy was one of those people who could spout a hundred useless facts and see a double-meaning in everything, but drew a blank when you asked who won the last football match between schools.

Tina hadn't caught on until she looked into the garden and knocked over her milkshake when she saw a flash of a man hanging from a gallows, jerking and twitching from a hangman not experienced enough to have caused the quick end of a broken neck.

With the number of inns that had been the location of clandestine, revolutionary meetings or fatal bar-brawls and arguments that turned deadly, dining had become a bit of a picky choice.

Even more unfortunately, the skies opened just as they reached a large Inn, the 'Journeyman's Rest', and while Tina could _feel_ a deep sense of sorrow penetrating the very walls, it wasn't bad enough that she was willing to run through bucketing rain to see if the small town had another Inn, which it probably didn't.

The sense of sorrow and loss was strongest in the common room, especially near the fire, where Tina caught a glimpse of a man, aged far beyond his years by grief, who had fallen asleep in his chair one night and never woken up. Tina brushed the tears out of her eyes along with the rainwater, thankful that Lizzy was in front of her and unable to see.

In the first stroke of good fortune, the small tour group was welcomed inside by the walking definition of a kindly old couple, who had beds to spare and wouldn't _dream_ of sending them back outside in this weather. No, no, of course they would stay the night, and we'll see what the weather is like in the morning, there's a lamb.

It looked like they wouldn't be going anywhere for a while.

.

.

.

.

* * *

_A/N: This has actually been floating around in my head for years, but I've only recently started writing it down. Thanks go to **Alara** for inspiring me to get off my backside and start writing properly._

_This story is very different to anything I've done before, so I would really appreciate any feedback.  
_

_Thanks, Nat  
_


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: I don't own The Highwayman, much to my disappointment._

_Summary: See previous chapter_

* * *

**Chapter Two**

Tina yelped quietly and snatched her hand back.

For once, it wasn't due to a psychic memory, but due to Lizzy's reflexes when Tina had tried to switch a brussel sprout for a baked potato off Lizzy's plate. Lizzy didn't even look up from her conversation with a few of the local boys as she filched one of Tina's carrots and used it to flick both sprout and potato back onto Tina's plate. Both girls loathed sprouts, and they were the only exception to the sharing food routine, where Lizzy had developed a sixth sense to beat Tina's psychically assisted one.

The Common Room/Dining Hall of the Inn looked as though it hadn't been changed since the place was built, much like the rest of the village, with wooden floor and furniture and stone walls. There was even a stable on the other side of the yard, though no one had said if any actual horses were in there.

Tina might have been a bit worried about if there was any modern conveniences, but a local patron had made a joke that even if the ghosts had wanted the Inn unchanged, at least they agreed that mattresses and indoor plumbing had improved since the 18th Century.

Cutting off a piece of the potato and gently blowing on it, Tina watched with amusement as two of the youths talking over each other as they tried to explain some of the local history and how it tied into the ghost legend, occasionally pausing to argue over a point.

That was the funny thing. Apart from pretty brown eyes and long black hair that most people would kill for, Lizzy was more frequently described as 'homely', if Upper-Working Class homely, especially when contrasted with blonde, busty and conventionally attractive Tina.

Yet, against all expectation, while Tina's looks were usually what brought the opposite gender over in the first place, Lizzy was almost always the one who had them hanging off her for half the night.

Tina had never been able to decide if it was the fact that her own good looks tended to hide a pessimistic, often-sarcastic and sometimes bitchy personality, or if it was because Lizzy actually _was_ only interested in talking over a few drinks. Either way, at least Lizzy could enjoy a conversation more-or-less certain that the guy she was talking to wasn't trying to picture her naked, and probably actually paid attention to what she was saying.

But if the boys Lizzy was talking to were discovering that it was possible to be just friend, the third member of the group, who was apparently the Innkeepers' grandson, was just sitting there quietly, looking almost entranced as he watched. Finally, Tina leaned over slightly. "You can stop staring at any time, you know."

The young man started, and Tina caught what might have been the barest hint of a psychic flicker. After almost a week of being surrounded by ghosts nearly every waking moment – and more than a few sleeping moments – Tina was thoroughly fed up with all and everything supernatural. 'Turning off' her psychic sense gave her a mild headache, but it couldn't possibly be worse than the stress-induced near-migraine she had been suffering. Making up her mind, she forced her psychic sense away as the young man apologized. "Sorry, Bess. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

He had directed the words to Lizzy, rather than Tina, who looked up at him as the two she was speaking to argued if the Highwayman was a James Hind or a Dick Turpin, and agreed that it depended on who you asked. "Don't worry about it. I'm used to getting strange looks."

Usually because of Tina, but that was beside the point. Tina usually didn't mind Lizzy getting all the attention, since it stopped people staring at her when a psychic episode cropped up, but this was starting to get a little depressing. Well, there were anti-jetlag pills in her handbag, and she would prefer a long-overdue good night's sleep over sitting around listening to ghost stories.

Nudging Lizzy, she gestured to the stairs, receiving a nod in return. Most of their luggage was still with the broken-down bus, but things always accumulated in handbags, such as the comb, tooth-brush and toothpaste for occasions when Tina slept through her alarm clock and had to duck into a bathroom at work to fix her hair and teeth after eating breakfast on the way to work.

After checking three rooms and discovering that they were all as old-fashioned as the rest of the building, Tina picked a room at random, turning her psychic sense back on just enough to make sure that it wasn't haunted. She stayed awake to fold her clothes on a chair and brush her teeth (thankfully the ewer was already full) before falling into a sleep mercifully devoid of dreams.

* * *

But if Tina didn't dream that night, Lizzy did.

_Lizzy – no, she was Bess, and Lizzy was a name left behind with her childhood._

_Bess stood at the fishmonger's stall as his apprentice wrapped up her purchase, paying less attention to the fish and more to the boys lined up in the village square. The merchant's wife would have scolded her, but since half the girls in town were doing the same thing, the fishwife had given it up as a lost cause._

_King George's men had come recruiting, full of tales of glory and adventure and how girls could never resist a man in uniform and the local boys had signed up in droves. Bess hoped that the bit about the uniform held true while they were on campaign, because the village girls had known most of them since birth, and no uniform would change the fact that the Surgeon's son was a scrawny brat, and Young Harry was only given the time of day because he was the mayor's oldest boy. _

_Now the new recruits were doing drills, and Bess inwardly cringed at the clear proof that only one or two of them had the first clue of what they were supposed to be doing._

_A few of the Merchants' sons, having accompanied their fathers on journeys to and from the larger towns, knew at least a few moves, picked up from the men hired to guard the wagons from any thieves or brigands. The Sherriff's boy had some idea, having been taught the basics by his father._

_But the best of them was John, the Blacksmith's bastard, currently showing the Miller's son that the pointy end of a bayonet was supposed to face __away__ from the person holding it, and it was to him Bess looked._

_The Blacksmith's wife didn't like seeing the proof of her husband's betrayal – not that any could blame her – so the Innkeeper, Bess's father, had taken him in as a helper in exchange for food, board and a small wage. Soldiers passed through the Inn all the time, and many either had sired their own bastards, or sometimes __were __the family embarrassment, and therefore had a little sympathy for a fellow mis-begot._

_Over the years, some had been sympathetic enough to take him behind the stable and teach him the use of a soldier's tools, so he could make his fortune if none in the town took pity on him._

_The Innkeeper, James Dawson, had taken pity, but he was in fine health, and with Tim already there as a stable boy, John had little hope for any advancement. Certainly no chance of advancing far enough to earn the money to begin his own livelihood, much less support a wife and family, so to the army John would go, until he had made his fortune and could return to marry her._

_John felt her eyes on him, giving Bess a wink and a roguish smile, and…_

The sun in her eyes woke Lizzy from a strange dream.

It wasn't the weirdest dream she had ever had – that dubious honour belonged to the dream where she was being chased by boots with fangs – but it certainly numbered in the top ten.

Glancing out of the window, she decided that it was late enough that she wouldn't be disturbing anyone else, and climbed out of bed. It was a nuisance to put yesterday's clothes back on, but at least they were dry now, and it would have to do until the found out what was happening with the tour bus.

* * *

Tina was already awake, feeling well-rested for the first time since they started the tour, and slowly getting ready to face the world with the help of a very large mug of coffee.

She briefly looked up when Lizzy sat down, nodding at her friend and glancing at the large clock over the fireplace. There was just no living with some people in the morning, and Tina was perfectly well aware that she was of the sub-set of people who shouldn't be engaged in meaningful conversation until an hour and two coffees after waking up.

That meant that Lizzy had another ten minutes and a third-of-a-mug of grouchy silence before even asking how Tina had slept, by which time several more of the tour group had shown up. This included the driver, who looked more than a bit haggard, but had proven to be a morning person, which meant that Lizzy could talk to him instead. "Any news on the bus?"

The driver, a bright-eyed man in his fifties, slumped in his seat. "Yes, but it isn't good. The part that broke needs to be completely replaced, and nowhere in the village has a replacement, so I'll need to have it delivered special-like, and find someone who knows how to fix an engine. We're here until at least the day after tomorrow."

Tina tried not to over-react, and only managed because Lizzy had anticipated such a response and given her a small kick under the table. She settled for a snarky comment, instead. "Well, that messes up our itinerary."

It was unfair of her, since the break-down was hardly the driver's fault, but the early morning and the effort of keeping her psychic radar turned off was making her short-tempered. Lizzy was used to dealing with it, even if others weren't, and tended to automatically mitigate, though it sometimes came off as condescending. "Be nice. We had two days scheduled for random stuff before we left, anyway, and the airline doesn't charge much to switch flights as long as you give them longer than 24 hours advance warning. We can send an email to them easily enough."

Tina subsided under the mildly-reproachful glance, and the driver sighed in relief, grateful that at least two of his passengers weren't going to kick up a stir. "We will be happy to cover the cost of staying here as an apology, of course." With such a small group, it wouldn't cost much, and certainly a lot less than if they had broken down somewhere else. "If you'll excuse me, I have to figure out how to get the bus and everyone's luggage back here over roads that are probably in a horrible condition."

One of the Gap-Year students, who Tina thought was named Marissa, leaned over from the next table. A pretty red-head, she had a tendency to fall in love every few days, usually after all of five minutes after being introduced. "You could always ask the Innkeepers if they know anyone who might be willing to help out."

Another of the students, Sean, who had more maturity than was usually found in the average teenage male, and an even bigger crush on the oblivious Marissa, frowned. "Why? The bags aren't _that_ heavy."

A married couple on holiday, who owned and operated a mechanic shop in Canada, had arrived downstairs just in time to hear the tail end of the conversation. "No, but if we end up having to push the bus, it'll be good to have help."

At least the bus was small, seating only about a dozen people, and if worst came to worst, they could detach the luggage trailer and drag that back by itself. Lizzy spotted her two friends from last night, who were apparently helping out as a holiday job while visiting their friend from university, the Innkeeper's grandson, the one who had called her Bess.

The driver explained the situation, and one of the boys left to round up a few more hands, while the Innkeeper's grandson gave Lizzy an almost roguish smile.

If Tina had been paying attention, rather than shutting things out, she would have noticed the soft psychic glow that briefly surrounded the two.

.

.

.

.

* * *

_A/N: I'm not sure if the last line counted as far too cliched, but oh well. Thanks to all of my readers, and I hope you enjoy this chapter._

_Thanks, Nat  
_


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: I do not own 'The Highwayman'. All credit and copyrights go to the estate of Alfred Noyes._

_Summary: See Previous Chapters  
_

* * *

**Chapter Three**

James had been having strange dreams for the last two nights.

The night before last, it had been the sense that he was riding over the surrounding countryside, dressed in clothes very much not of the 21st Century. Last night, when a spectacular storm had left a small tour group stranded at the Inn, he had been a boy, barely in his teens, aiming longing looks at his employer's daughter and receiving shy glances in return.

The dreams had been vivid, so lifelike that his best friends, Ben and Will, had been forced to call his name twice before he remembered that his name was not John, and created such a sense of familiarity that he had spent half the night staring at one of the tour guests from afar, instinctively calling her Bess, even though he knew that they had never even met before.

Not that he entirely minded watching. Ben had called her a 'grenade' – a concept that James still found fundamentally flawed, since it relied on if either girl wanted to sleep with you in the first place, and if the pretty one was a lousy enough friend to leave her companion in the lurch, rather than stating that the only similarity to a grenade was that you had just blown your chances to kingdom come with the insult – only for both of James's friends to spend most of the night ignoring the cute blonde while competing for the brunette's attention.

That was probably a good thing, since the pretty blonde looked like the kind of self-respecting, loyal friend who would deck anyone stupid enough to use the 'Grenade Play'.

When the brunette, who had corrected his instinctive 'Bess' to her preferred 'Lizzy', asked if he knew anyone who could give them a hand moving the small tour bus somewhere that wasn't the middle of the road maybe a twenty minute walk away, James couldn't stop a grin.

Innkeepers and their families knew everyone, and James could think of several lads who would help out just for the entertainment value of watching a few of the tourists slog it over the moor in heels, and the opportunity of learning new swear-words.

* * *

When James got back to the Inn with a half-dozen others he had rounded up, Ben and Will were talking with the cute blonde, who was looking pained, for some reason. James put it down to a combination of his two friends, and that Lizzy had gone ahead with the rest of the tour group.

The blonde, who had introduced herself as Tina after the third time Ben or Will had referred to her as 'Um… Lizzy's friend…' while talking to Lizzy, looked even more pained when they caught up to the university students who made up the majority of the tour group, four of whom looked miserable as they attempted to navigate the muddy roads on six-inch heels.

The redhead who had made a very bad attempt at 'come-hither-eyes' while introducing herself as Marissa perked up when she saw them approach, then tried to look melodramatic. "Oh, my feet are killing me! It's going to be murder dragging everything all the way back!"

James didn't need to look behind him to know that at least two of the volunteers were already grinning at the impromptu street theatre. Marissa's attempt failed even more when Tina gave her a look that could have frozen a bonfire, accompanied by a heartless "Suck it up."

Lizzy was not quite so harsh, but her voice still carried the exaggerated patience of one who had possessed the foresight to wear sensible shoes, and been stuck listening to complaints from those who had not been so practical. "You _were_ told to bring walking shoes, and if it's such a hassle, why don't you just take them off and hose your feet down when you get back?"

Two of the other miserable-looking girls glared at Lizzy's back, while the last only offered a resigned sigh and continued walking. James grinned again, falling into step with Lizzy, who was pointedly ignoring the university students.

Oh yes, watching this was _so _worth any amount of pushing!

* * *

The bus was small, as buses go, and they at least managed to get it out of the muddy ditch. That was all, though, as whatever part had broken had managed to jam the brakes along the way.

But, any Roadside Assistance would find it easier to get to the bus if it was on the road, rather than detouring into the village, and the half-hour warning call would give the driver time to walk out and meet the mechanic.

In the end, they left the bus where it was and simply unhitched the baggage trailer, lowly dragging that back to the Inn-yard, at which point the tourists all disappeared to their rooms to wash and change.

_John watched as Bess disappeared upstairs to her room, returning almost instantly with a wrapped package, which looked like boots from the shape of it. "You'll be doing a lot of marching, I suppose, and I walked the blisters out already."_

_John smiled at her thoughtfulness, and Bess suddenly looked shy. "I paid the tanner and the cobbler from my own wages. They were made here, for you, so I hope one day they'll carry you back to me."_

_John was tongue-tied for a moment too long, overjoyed that his affection was not one-sided, and Bess was called away by her father to help with the customers._

_When the soldiers and the new recruits marched away, the whole town turned out to see them off. John surrupticiously looked around to see if he could spot Bess, and broke protocol to wave back at the Inn window where she stood._

_It wasn't the boots that would bring him home, one day. _

* * *

The rain had returned, though this time it was in a steady drizzle, rather than the storm of the first night, so most people were staying at home, or, in the case of the tour group, in the Common or Sitting Rooms of the Inn.

The Gap Year students were playing cards. Snap had ended after only a few games, when it turned out that long, manicured nails were less than ideal when you had several hands fighting for dominance of the card pile. Now they were onto Diminishing Whist, while the Driver and the Canadian couple played a quieter game of Clue. Tina lay on a couch, lazily watching the scene, her legs draped over Lizzy's lap and off the armrest while her friend tried to achieve the appropriate amount of spookiness while reciting 'The Raven' from the book of poetry balanced on Tina's legs.

Tina thought that the solomn tone and slight dramatic pauses, coupled with the low, soothing note that was Lizzy's default for reading out loud, pulled it off quite well, though she preferred the overt sarcasm that crept into her voice during the rendition of 'The Charge of the Light Brigade'. Lizzy had been slipping into an English accent over the past day or so, which made it even more realistic, but that was probably just a reaction to their surroundings

A quiet laugh came from nearby. "So you're a one for ghosts and legends, are you, lass?"

The older couple who ran the Inn had come in at some point, the lack of customers giving them a bit of spare time. The wife was giving her grandson and his friends, who were lying on the floor as Lizzy's un-noticed audience, drying off after the day's yardwork, an amused look. Her husband had been the one to laugh.

Tina answered for her friend, who had blushed and looked down. "Ghosts, legends and History in general. Ask about any historical period, and Lizzy can probably give you a random fact. Eek!"

Lizzy had poked Tina on the sole of her foot, where she was insanely ticklish. Tina yanked her feet out of Lizzy's reach as Ben perked up. "Huns?"

Lizzy grabbed for Tina's feet again as the blonde tried to scramble away, intent on retaliation for putting her in the spotlight. "Horse dung was a common source of fuel."

Tina laughed helplessly under Lizzy's attack and fell of the couch, squashing Will in the process. Another of the Gap Year students, Aaron, looked over from the final round, ignoring how ridiculous he looked holding a single card over his forehead. "Victorian Era?"

Lizzy put down the poetry book as Tina scrambled for her slippers. "Legs was considered a rude word, and there was a boatload of euphemisms for it."

The Canadians stopped setting up the board for a second game. "Eighteenth Century Russia?"

Lizzy gave Tina what is known as a 'telling look'. This one was the town gossip. "Tsar Peter III had a rat court marshalled for nibbling on one of his toy soldiers. Probably a good thing that he only ruled for six months, though not that surprising."

The Innkeepers laughed again. "Well, would you like to hear a few of the local stories? Our grandson's friends may have told you, but they only know the bare bones."

Nearly the entire group perked up at the offer. They had come on the tour for History and Hauntings, after all. Tina cautiously settled back down next to Lizzy, double-checking the barrier holding back her psychic sense. Lizzy leaned forward eagerly. "We'd love to, if you have the time."

The old man's face nearly disappeared into the laugh-lines as he smiled, happy to have an audience. "Well then, which tale to start with…"

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* * *

_A/N: Shorter than the other chapters, but it was the best stopping point I could find. I hope you all enjoy, and I would love to hear any constructive criticism._

_Thanks,  
_

_Nat  
_


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: I do not own The Highwayman, or any of the associated characters. That honour belongs to Alfred Noyes. Anything you don't recognize, however, is probably mine._

_Summary: See Previous Chapters._

* * *

**Chapter Four**

Between them, the Innkeepers had an incredible stock of traditional tales, local legends and ghost stories, all of which they were happy to tell to a keen audience who hadn't already heard them a dozen times over.

Lizzy's enthusiasm for the stories had been a source of vast amusement for Sean and his friends, who had finally found something that turned the serious young woman into a child with a love for bedtime stories. They weren't about to tease her, though; mostly because of the killer look Tina shot them whenever they tried.

It was one of the few times that people thinking Tina to be a little unhinged looked as though it would come in handy.

This afternoon, in the break between cleaning up after lunch and getting a start on preparing for dinner, it was the local legend that had given the village its popularity, and drawn the tour group there in the first place. Will was taking a turn manning the bar, for the benefit of any who came in for a quiet drink or to watch the Sports with friends between mealtimes, Ben was making the daily grocery run, and James was sitting on a chair next to where Lizzy and Tina were again curled up on the sofa.

He was an incredible storyteller, and it showed. "… The Landlord's daughter watched for her love every night, waiting for him and fearing for his safety, for even Highwaymen are loved by someone, and this Highwayman had done a great deal of good for those in need. But one night, the King's soldiers came with no warning, and the Innkeeper's daughter was no longer the only one waiting for the Highwayman.

The Highwayman was clever, and escaped their trap, but they came upon him the next day, when he was returning to our little village, and shot him dead."

A dramatic pause practically begged for a question to be asked, and Marissa leaned forward, entranced. "But how did the King's Men know where to find the Highwayman? If he and the Landlord's daughter met in secret…"

The current Landlord smiled mysteriously. "Ah, now there's where the accounts start to change. Some say it was the landlord's lass who betrayed her lover, others claim it was the stable boy, acting from jealousy. Still more insist that it were neither, only chance that caused a redcoat to overhear a few rumours."

The old man leaned closer to his enraptured audience, lowering his voice. "And there's some as claim that on a winter night, you can see them waiting, hoping for a meeting that will never come."

Between the unrequited love story of Marissa and Sean that had everyone looking amused when the redhead mock-swooned against him, and a sudden influx of customers, no-one noticed Lizzy and James instinctively reaching for each other, squeezing hands in an attempt to convey comfort, until James's grandparents called him away.

* * *

_The problem with being a war recruit was that when the war was over, most of the remaining soldiers were discharged, and left to find something else to do with their lives. For the younger sons of the gentry, who had bought themselves the rank of an officer, this was no great hardship, as they kept their commissions, but for those not blessed with family money or high connections, it was a different story._

_Many were orphans, who had risked joining the army as boys, rather than the Poorhouse or life on the streets. It was debatable which fate held more peril. Others, like John, were in the army because they were dirty secrets to some family or other, who hoped that being out of sight would keep them out of mind. Yet more had joined to seek their fortune, having had few other prospects._

_Some of those soldiers, distinguished through fine service or toadying up to their high superiors, stayed on. Others, having picked up the beginnings of smith-skills, or leather-working, or some other trade during their service, went looking for tradesmen who might be looking for assistants._

_Yet others, without connections, or skills to trade, had no-one to accept them as a pupil. Still more, haunted in both dreams and waking hours by the horrors they had seen, and in some cases, committed, were unable to adjust to life outside a warzone. They, along with many orphaned fortune-seekers or inconvenient bastards, felt that they had no recourse but to turn to banditry._

_John did not wish to take such a road, but he had only returned to the village of his birth a month before the reality sunk in. _

_In his absence, Innkeeper Dawson had hired another man-of-all-work, and kindness or not, he could not afford to hire more staff than he needed. Bess and another maid cooked and kept house and served customers, while the Innkeeper worked the bar and handled the affairs of guests. Tim the 'ostler and the boy who had been hired in John's place took care of everything else, so there was no need for him._

_As before, none of the other merchents or tradesmen wanted to take on the Blacksmith's bastard, and no matter how much the Innkeeper liked him, there would be no question of his courting or marrying Bess without some way to support her._

_But that didn't mean that John couldn't chose what _kind_ of Highwayman he would be. One of the friends that John had made in the army had been the son of a well-known Historian, who could quote most of his father's lectures by heart. His friend's father had specialized in the English Civil War, and one of his lectures had to do with a man by the name of James Hind._

_James Hind had been a Royalist, and stole from the Roundheads, only to give his spoils to Royalists who had been left in dire circumstances._

_After losing a war that culminated in a large drop in revenue from the Colonies and an already unstable King losing what little wits he had, England was not in the best state, and there was a marked difference between classes, with those who could most afford charity being those who were the least inclined to give it, which meant that desperate men were sometimes driven to even more desperate measures._

_His time in the army had built up a tolerance for spoiled second sons who placed more importance on breeding than on ability, and, more importantly, how to tell the sensible ones apart from the idiots likely to get their men killed through sheer incompetence. One idiotic 'Rupert', or Commissioned Officer who hadn't worked his way up through the ranks, had made sure that everyone under his command could recognize the crests of the more important houses, 'in order to show the proper respect'._

_Many soldiers who had to deal with him had muttered darkly about respect on the wrong end of a pistol, and if his predictions about the abruptly discharged soldiers were correct, John wondered how many of those important houses would eventually end up staying at home quite a lot, rather than travelling by marked carriages._

_Second sons, knowing that they were unlikely to inherit, tended to be more down-to-earth than their brothers, so when you came across Ruperts like that, you could only shudder to imagine what the rest of the family was like. James knew for a fact that the Rupert had a 'wrong side of the sheets' half-brother in the rank-and-file, though the half-brother was actually a decent fellow, so he was hardly one to talk about moral high-grounds._

_Families with second sons who spoke scornfully of the 'common masses' and 'right of birth' could probably use a sharp dose of reality, and in the interest of helping those suddenly fallen upon hard times, James might well be the one to deliver that dose._

* * *

James was seriously considering asking his grandmother if she had switched recipies at some point in the near past, because three strange dreams in as many nights was pushing the bounds of chance or co-incidence.

He would ask delicately, of course, because she was his grandmother and wouldn't hesitate to give him a quick swat with a dishcloth if he was rude or insulting, but something was going on, and James wanted to find out what.

In the meantime, he would go downstairs for an hour or two before he had to be up anyway. Lizzy, one of the tourists, appeared to also have trouble sleeping, and would probably be down there with a book, curled up under a throw.

James didn't know what it was, but he liked her, and there was a part of him that felt as though he had known her for centuries.

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* * *

_A/N: And Chapter Four is done!_

_Look, this is my first attempt at a mostly-Original Story, so feedback, especially constructivly critical feedback, really would be appreciated._

_I'm starting a work trial tomorrow, and if all goes well, that will lead to permanent work, so I don't know how much writing time I will have in the near future. Wish me luck anyway!_

_Thanks,_

_Nat_


	5. Chapter 5

_Disclaimer: The poem belongs to Alfred Noyes, and credit for that should go to him._

_Summary: See previous chapters._

* * *

**Chapter**** Five**

_The doeskin breeches were more comfortable and durable than the plain cloth that the army had issued, and John valued them as much as the fine lace and claret silk cord bunched at his neck._

_Somehow, Bess had never managed to make her cloth lie flat or fold as it was supposed to, whether she was creating linen or lace._

_The rapier had been a gift from his father, the blacksmith, an awkward gesture to his bastard son when he signed up as a soldier. It would not breech the barrier that had been there since John's very birth, but it was nice to know that his father didn't want him to die, no matter how convenient it would have been for the Blacksmith's home life._

_The pistols were a gift from one of his second-son friends, Stephan, who had received a better pair from his family upon his promotion to Captain, but didn't want to simply throw the old pair away just to prove a point. John was practical enough not to take offense when Stephan explained the reasoning. _

_The moonlight, half hidden by the clouds, turned the moor purple and highlighted the road that twisted like a careless ribbon over the untamed hills._

_In the distance, John could make out houses and the occasion light shining through a window._

_But it was one window he searched for, one person awake and waiting for his arrival. The tap of his whip against the shutters yielded no answer, telling him that most of the inhabitants were asleep, and he whistled a short tune as he approached a window._

_His ears, now attuned to the slightest of noises, heard the click of a latch being unfastened, and he looked up, his lips curling into a smile as he saw…_

.

James wondered if his subconscious was trying to tell him something.

If it was, then he had to wonder what underlying trauma, guilt or condition would have him dreaming about holding up coaches with (presumably) the crests of the gentry, or secret meetings with a girl who looked almost identical to Lizzy, the interesting girl in the latest Tour Group.

Maybe his older sister, long since married and gone, hadn't been lying about a few of the village boys attempting to use him as a football when he was an infant. Her reasoning had been that no child could be dropped on their head asmany times as he must have been, with it still being an accident.

And why did he wake up hearing hoof-beats, when the only horses around were the cart-horses currently staying at a farm three miles away, on loan for the planting season?

It had been years since James had last been scared by dreams, but these ones were really starting to freak him out.

* * *

It was strange to see Lizzy acting like this.

All right, attention from a good-looking boy who might be interested in more than 'just friends' wasn't so common that Lizzy could be blamed for letting it go to her head a little. Fine, so in Tina's opinion James had plenty of valid reasons to be attracted to Lizzy, not the least being reciprocated interest from a girl he _hadn't_ known his entire life. Yes, it was possible to fall in love in a short time – Tina's grandparents had known each other for exactly two weeks before they married, during the War, and lived together happily for almost sixty years.

But really!

Tina freely admitted to never having been in love before, so maybe that was the reason behind the personality changes in the two, but Tina had experienced extreme like, and she still thought that Lizzy and James might be moving a bit fast.

They had only known each other for all of two days, after all, and Lizzy had never been one for making hasty decisions. Neither had James, according to Ben and Will, who had been concerned enough at their friend's behaviour that they took Tina to the side to ask if she thought her friend was acting a bit strangely.

People thinking that Lizzy or Tina were a bit odd was not unusual, not the least because of Lizzy's obsession with history and legends, and the side-effects of Tina's psychic sense. Even so, Tina had to say that her normally-steadfast friend's uncharacteristic behaviour took the cake.

But Tina loved Lizzy as a sister, and knew about the deeply-hidden insecurity that came with the knowledge that even if boys did talk to her, it wasn't Lizzy's personality that made them approach in the first place. Lizzy would be hurt if Tina tried to say that she thought the budding relationship was more hormones and novelty than true affection, no matter how much Tina would mean it in a good way, and Lizzy wouldn't appreciate the interference.

They still had another day or so before they left, however, and even if she thought herself to be madly in love; Lizzy would never impulsively just uproot her life to stay behind when the tour group left. Even Marissa wouldn't be that daft. Tina still had time to think up a speech that wouldn't completely devastate her oldest friendship.

With that in mind, she drifted off to sleep, ignoring the slight tingle in her subconscious.

* * *

_Fear._

_Not for herself, despite her current predicament, but for her love, riding to his death with no way for her to warn him._

_Fear for her father, who lay bleeding on the Common Room floor, injured while trying to stop the soldiers from taking her. Oh, she was glad that her sister was away at school, her father having gone short-staffed as he saved for years to afford it!_

_Fear for the rest of the village, if the redcoats took it into their heads to wonder why none of them had reported the Highwayman who had been so active nearby. Bess would not put it past this captain to have half the town dance the gallows jig, even if their only crime was that of silence!_

_Her hands were bound, her body tied to the foot of her narrow bedframe, a musket with a hair trigger keeping her at attention and preventing her from struggling, and she had a perfect view of the road where John's blood would soon stain the cobblestones._

_Again, she twisted her hands in their tight bonds, trying to gain even a small amount of freedom… and froze when she found it. _

_There was only the slightest give in her bonds, but it would be enough. _

_She worked hard, but silently, careful to keep her body as still as possible. If the redcoats heard anything enough to take their attention from their watch at her window, if they discovered what she was doing, they would only tie her up again, this time without mistakes. As it was, she would only have this one chance._

_One arm was pulled as far over as she could manage without breaking it, the crack of bone surely enough to make the redcoats notice. She turned the wrist so that she could stretch her reach even further, and Bess was glad for the gag that stopped her from screaming in pain. The town bell started to chime midnight, and at last, her finger touched…_

.

Lizzy bolted upright, her eyes wide.

She had had reoccurring dreams before, but never progressive ones of someone else's life. Never dreams that felt so real that it was becoming hard to tell the difference between Lizzy herself and Bess, the girl in her dreams.

Trying to rid herself of the faint feeling that she was waiting for someone, Lizzy got out of bed and sat at the window, staring out across the moor, the obscured moonlight making the road appear as a ribbon winding in a breeze.

It was strange, and Lizzy couldn't shake the feeling that, somehow, events had conspired to bring her here, though she knew she was being silly. Legends were fascinating, but it was absurd to think that some supernatural force had gone out of its way to cause a horrible storm, like one out of a Gothic romance, purely so that Lizzy would be trapped in a place that felt so familiar, even though it couldn't be. Break-downs happened all the time, especially in conditions such as the ones that night, for reasons that had nothing to do with some unseen force wanting her to meet the Innkeeper's grandson, to whom she felt an undeniable pull of love, so intense as to almost scare her.

Lizzy was enough of a romantic to believe in soul-mates and true love, but it wasn't as though she would suddenly give up her life to stay here. Not with such things to consider as citizenship, her job, and leaving her family and friends behind.

There was no point in trying to go back to sleep just yet, so Lizzy fished a book out of her bag and quietly tip-toed downstairs, careful not to wake anyone. Tina hadn't complained, and insisted that it was nothing to worry about, but she hadn't been feeling well during the tour, and some uninterrupted sleep would do Lizzy's friend a world of good.

The fires downstairs would be banked, but there were one or two electric reading lights scattered in a sitting room, with knitted or crocheted throws over every chair, where she could read until she fell asleep again. The Innkeeper wouldn't mind if they found her lying on the couch, as long as he slippers were off the edge.

Lizzy had barely settled under a throw, wondering where to find a book to teach her how to make one of her own, and opened her book when the door creaked open, to reveal James, in a set of slightly muddy pyjama's, looking only a little more awake than she felt.

Spotting her, James looked rueful as he carefully placed another log on the fire and replaced the grate, tugging on a long, fleece-lined overcoat and buttoning it all the way up before removing his mud-splattered pyjama pants and hanging them up to dry, retrieving a new set out of a hallway closet.

Looking away as he changed in the limited space on the other side of the open door, Lizzy curled her legs further underneath her body when he emerged, silently offering the other half of the couch.

James accepted it gratefully, answering the question that she hadn't asked but really wanted to know. "Would you believe that I dreamed I was someone from the Georgian Era, riding to meet someone at an Inn, and I had just reached the Inn yard when I woke up, and found myself outside, in the weirdest case of sleepwalking ever? The door wasn't even unlocked, and I had to find the spare key before I could get back inside!"

It would have sounded a bit strange to anyone who hadn't been having the same kind of dreams for the last several nights, but Lizzy was in no position to criticise. "If it's anything like the dreams I've been having lately, then yes. They've been more like flashbacks while sleeping, really, like I was an Innkeeper's daughter centuries ago."

If anything, James looked even more uncomfortable. "That's… scarily similar to what I've been dreaming since the night before your group showed up, only I was a Highwayman. Your name as the Innkeeper's daughter wasn't Bess, by any chance?"

Lizzy almost felt her face pale. "It was; Bess Dawson. Please tell me the Highwayman's name wasn't John."

James shook his head. "Can't do that, I'm afraid, and Dawson family have owned this Inn since it was built in the early seventeen hundreds. This is getting creepy."

Lizzy could only nod in agreement and move closer, shivering from more than cold.

* * *

Tina had relaxed the stranglehold on her psychic sub-conscious as she had closed her eyes and listened to the latest story from the Innkeeper. It was a tale that sounded like something out of the Gothic Romances that Lizzy pretended she didn't read, filled with secret romance, betrayal, midnight rendezvous and restless spirits. Something tingled on the edge of her senses, and she let her eyes drift open, reluctant to lose the relaxed atmosphere.

Tina instantly lost every trace of calm anyway as she took a closer look around, her eyes snapping open in horrified awareness.

Connected by a soft eldritch glow, Lizzy and James were instinctively leaning toward each other in a pose of relaxed familiarity. Worse, their figures were overcast by the ghostly outline of two people, an outline that grew stronger by the second.

The loud yelp as Tina jerked and clutched her head went largely unremarked by most of the tour group, who had been reassured multiple times that it was nothing life-threatening, but the locals stared at her in concern. Tina attempted a smile. "It's fine, just a thing. Happens all the time. Uh, Lizzy, could you…"

Lizzy's reassuring smile was a lot more effective as she wrapped an arm around Tina's waist. Some of the sights on the tour had been bad enough to knock Tina off her feet, so Lizzy just assumed the worst when these episodes happened and was usually pleasantly surprised when they were nothing that a bit of (non-haunted) rest didn't cure, but telling everyone that wouldn't help. "She'll be fine after a quick lie-down. Come on, Tina."

Her words might have relaxed and reassured most of the Tour Group, though the Innkeepers looked a little concerned, but they did nothing to soothe Tina, reeling from the sudden discovery that she had been so determined not to notice.

A determination that could now spell disaster.

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* * *

_A/N: Next chapter up, and I'd love to hear opinions on how I did, including constructive criticism on what I did wrong or where I need to improve. Reviews help the author to grow as a writer, and at this rate, I'll be the metaphorical stunted midget._

_Thanks,_

_Nat_


	6. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer: I do not own 'The Highwayman'. All credit goes to Alfred Noyes._

_Summary: See previous chapters._

* * *

**Chapter Six**

The shock of seeing Lizzy at least partially possessed, coupled with the larger shock of suddenly dropping the psychic barrier all at once, was enough to knock Tina out for a few minutes, thankfully _after_ they reached Tina's room.

Waking up, Tina looked around and spotted Lizzy on a chair next to the bed, reading a book and looking utterly scandalized. A look at the title sorted out why. It might be one of Lizzy's favourite books, but Supernatural Fantasy hadn't really caught on in the Georgian period, nor had heroines – much less high-born heroines – who knew three kinds of martial arts, saved the day in adventures and had no intention of marriage.

_Looking _at her friend and confirming that spiritual possession was not just a bad dream or hallucination, Tina closed her eyes again. With an intensity that she hadn't felt since the lower levels of the Tower of London, she sincerely wished that they had never come on this trip.

Deciding that there was no use simply hoping that the whole mess wasn't going to go away if she pretended that it wasn't there – an attitude that had got them into this situation in the first place – Tina forced back the guilty feeling that if she had been paying attention, she would have found some way to get out of this place before Lizzy fell prey to the ghosts. Whether it was true or not, dwelling on it wouldn't fix the problem.

The psychic glow around her best friend was strong, strong enough to indicate that Bess was enjoying some time in control of Lizzy's body, so now was perhaps the only chance she would have to get some answers.

Tina made her voice as cold and confrontational as she could. "Normally, I'd demand that you hand back my friend right this very second, but I want answers first. Presuming that you are the Innkeeper's Daughter, I want to know what it will take to get you to leave Lizzy alone."

The answer was a blinding smile that Tina had _never _seen on Lizzy's face in the years they had known each other. "My name is Bess Dawson, and what will bring me peace is up to you to find. But I will tell you this much: to bring about the ending that should have been, you need to start at the beginning."

The Psychic glow faded, the awake Bess giving way to a napping Lizzy, and concern for her friend, who hadn't been sleeping well (exactly _why _was now obvious), was the only thing that stopped Tina from letting out a scream of frustration.

Tina was a straightforward kind of girl, who had little use for cryptic remarks, and even less skill at translating them. She had always left that nonsense up to Lizzy, who probably would have worked it out easily, and Tina wished more than ever that she could talk to her about this. But right now, Bess had a strong enough hold on Lizzy that it was likely to be she who answered, every time the topic of ghosts and spirits came up, and all that Tina had been, or was likely to be, able to get out of _her _was to start at the beginning.

Start at the beginning. Right.

For Tina herself, that had been when she caught the flash of John's death. For James and Lizzy, it had been when they started having dreams of being someone else and the life they had shared, the night that Tina and Lizzy had arrived.

What was it that the Innkeepers had said? There were three theories of how the soldiers had found out about Bess and John the Highwayman: by pure chance, by the Innkeeper's Daughter's betrayal, or by a jealous stable boy.

From the way Bess and John were acting, even though their near-strangers hosts, the second theory was right out, and a Highwayman so careless as to leave a rumour detailing the exact time and place of his meetings would not have lasted so long.

That left the stable boy, and with everyone who worked at the Inn eating dinner before the kitchen opened for the guests, Tina had a small window of opportunity.

* * *

Checking that no-one else was around, she folded her arms in her best impression of '_Angry Woman: Do Not Irritate'._ "Right, I know that there is someone hanging around in here, and if I don't get some answers _now_, I'm leaving and taking Lizzy with me, and I don't care how far we have to go before the ghost possessing her stays behind!"

The ghost of a young man in what was probably Georgian Era clothing appeared with commendable speed. Most spirits tended to fade into view, but this one had ditched the dramatics. "Alright, alright, calm down!"

Tina glared. "Don't tell me to calm down! That's my best friend in there, and the whole mess is at least partly because I wasn't paying attention! Now start talking; what role do you play, and how do I fix this?"

The youth squirmed, looking even guiltier that Tina felt. "I was the catalyst. I began the events that led to the Landlord's daughter killing herself to warn her Highwayman love, and his death as he hunted down those that he thought responsible. It's a long story."

Tina's eyes narrowed. "Boil it down. Why are you here as a ghost that can interact with people, but all of the others are just spirits, and have to work through dreams or possess a host? The Landlord's daughter killed herself with a musket, and violent deaths are the most common way of leaving a ghost behind, so I'd have expected _her_ to be the one floating around. The Highwayman died miles away, I felt and saw it, so why is he possessing someone here?"

The ghost sighed. "I'm Tim, originally the 'ostler at this Inn. Bess died violently and before her time, but she died with love in her heart, to save another, and at peace with her decision. The Highwayman, John, killed the captain who commanded the troops at the Inn before the rest brought him down. I remain because of the guilt of knowing that I was responsible for their deaths…"

He trailed off dramatically, and Tina intensified her glare, knowing that there was more to it. Tim winced. "…and the misery of the sheer number of people who offered to help me with a rope necklace. I appear to you so easily because just as my impulsiveness led to their deaths, so your inaction has placed the life of your friend in jeopardy."

Tina could feel the situation upgrading from 'Killer Headache' to 'Horrible Migraine', complete with her vision dimming and feeling ready to black out. "But you said that they died at peace, so they shouldn't be here at all! Bess warned the Highwayman, he avenged her death, what is left for them to finish?"

Tim somehow managed to look even more wretched than before. Tina was actually impressed. "The Highwayman swore that Hell itself would not keep him from her, and meant it with all of his soul. That last ride, if not for my actions, would have been the _last_. He would have finally saved enough to support a wife and begin a family, and the Innkeeper would have given his permission in a heartbeat."

He sighed with the misery of centuries. "To my mind, giving up the Highwayman was my last chance to play the hero and claim Bess for my own. Instead I became the villain, and destroyed their longest-held dream, a dream so dear to their hearts that it holds them here still."

Tina barely resisted the urge to scream. Why was it always her? Every other ghost story in the world had some relatively simple solution!

But no! If what Lizzy and James – or rather, Bess and John taking over and speaking through them – had told her was correct, she had to re-unite two spirits that had died miles away from each other, and somehow give them the Happily Ever After that they had been waiting for.

Anger turned into fear and grief. If she failed, there was every possibility that her best friend would die as Bess had!

Tina swallowed back the threatening tears that stung her eyes, forcing herself to try and think things through calmly and objectively.

One of the bigger problems, to Tina's mind, was that Lizzy was being possessed by a woman madly in love. Madly in love, and in a situation where people were unlikely to remark too much on the number of months between her first child and her marriage to the man who was, in turn, possessing a local boy who Lizzy had known for _literally _only a few days.

Anger returned in a hurry. Bess might like the idea, but the only thing in common on that point was both Bess and her host were waiting for the right man. Lizzy and James barely even knew each other, and Lizzy had frequently expressed her opinion about one night stands. Even if it was a ghost controlling things, it would practically be rape, and Tina wouldn't do that to her friend if there was even the slightest chance of some other way.

Lizzy's wandering way of thinking might have driven Tina crazy on occasion, but right now, Tina would have given nearly anything to be able to ask her advice and see if Lizzy could come up with an alternate solution.

As it turned out, she didn't have to, since Lizzy came to her first, with a story that they both knew would have sounded fantastical to anyone else, but only sent Tina into a cursing fury before Lizzy calmed her down enough for both of them to exchange as much of the full story as they knew.

* * *

Perhaps the ghosts were trying to apologize for the upset their hosts were going through, because the dream that night was far more pleasant.

_Bess doubted that there was a single person who would give John up to the authorities, including the local authorities themselves, and it was an open secret that John was quietly courting her._

_Even so, lying awake, waiting for the hoof-beats and whistled tune that heralded a clandestine meeting, always gave Bess a small thrill._

_Charlotte, Bess's younger sister, was away at school, their father wanting to give her the best chance he could at making a good marriage, when it became clear that Bess was happy with enough learning to help run the Inn that she would inherit, along with her future husband. That was a pity, as Bess could hardly wait to tell her the wonderful news, and the mail coach wouldn't come through for another week! _

_John had friends in the village, but asking their help in this matter would create the wrong impression and start unkind rumours. That left the aid of the blacksmith, who could come up with a valid reason for asking, even if he was about as subtle as his trade, especially when he had asked to measure her finger. It was a sweet effort, and very obvious what John was up to, and Bess felt hope rising in her heart. _

_John wouldn't make a false promise, and the Blacksmith tried as little as possible to do with his illegitimate child as possible, so asking for his father's help meant that John must hold the matter in high seriousness._

_There was no question of John continuing the life of a Highwayman if he had a wife and, in time, children to think of, so a ring in the making meant that soon, John would be able to leave off risking his life and finally come home and marry her!_

* * *

Lizzy and James sat on a couch, talking quietly.

To the casual bystander, it would seem like small talk. To James's friends and the tour group, it would seem like two interested people getting to know each other. To James and Lizzy, it was far more serious.

They had attempted to put together a timeline of events, comparing the Innkeeper's stories with the dreams/memories and what Tim had told Tina, and had finally come to a very worrying conclusion.

They had perhaps a day before Bess and John's story reached its inevitable conclusion. With Lizzy and James acting as their hosts, they needed to either change the ending, or share the same fate.

After a mini-freak-out that Tina's intervention managed to pass off as a fit of stifled laughter from the pair, James frowned, growing serious again. "We should talk to my grandparents. Granddad is an expert on ghost stories, especially the local ones, and Nana studied physics, as well as a thorough knowledge of injuries, thanks to years of patching up anything that didn't require an actual visit to the professionals."

Lizzy nodded. "Knowledge is power, after all. If you don't mind my asking, what about your parents? Would they be able to help?"

James shrugged. "Mum didn't want to work at the Inn her entire life, so she got a job in a bigger town, met Dad, and their work sends them all over the place. They're in Japan right now, and with the lack of airports around here, and the roads still in a state, they wouldn't get here in time, and they don't hold with the supernatural. They wouldn't believe it if Bess and John showed up in person, and would just think I was playing a silly joke to get them home sooner."

Lizzy nodded again. Her parents were much the same, being of a practical mindset that didn't include ghosts or dream-visions, and if Lizzy could barely explain the possession fiasco to Tina, who already knew about the supernatural and had therefore only spent five minutes staring with her mouth open before she started ranting about ghosts and hauntings, then she couldn't even imagine explaining it to sceptics over the phone.

Even if either set of parents did get there on time, James and Lizzy would be looking forward to months or years of visiting the nearest psychiatrist, if not a quick trip to a mentally ill facility.

James stood up, offering Lizzy a hand, trying not to think if it was the common courtesy drilled into him by his grandparents, or the manners that would have been second nature to John. "Nana and Granddad should be washing up after breakfast right now. We can ease them into it while helping out."

Of course, it could never be that easy.

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_A/N: Sorry for the break between updates, but I just started a new job, which is keeping me insanely busy._


	7. Chapter 7

_Disclaimer: I do not own The Highwayman.  
Summary: See Previous Chapters_

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

Putting heads together had come up with _a _plan, though whether or not it was a _good _plan depended on who you asked.

Tina had not thought it possible to come up with a _worse_ plan, which explained her spending the last three hours attempting to talk Lizzy out of the insane idea that she and James had thought up in an effort to get themselves un-possessed.

The problem was that as insane as the plan was, out of everything they had come up with, it was also the most likely to work, which made Tina's side a lot harder to argue. Still… "What part of '_you are very likely to die doing this'_ is so hard for you to grasp?"

It was a bad sign that Tina, normally in possession of iron self-control, was reduced to waving her arms as she paced, but Lizzy's near-legend placidity was serving her well. "I know you don't like it, Tina, but can you think of any better ideas? Bess and John were trapped by their death, but if we're careful, we won't be! There's a well-stocked clinic less than two streets away, and you have some medical training. Everything will turn out fine."

That was the heart of the matter. "But what if it doesn't turn out fine? I already screwed this up by not noticing what was going on, what if I screw up again?"

Despite her best efforts, Tina burst into tears. If she had been paying attention, she would have caught on a lot earlier, and there were enough lapses in the weather that they could have brought an umbrella and walked to the next town, and Lizzy was good-natured enough to have gone along with it, if Tina had really insisted.

But Tina had been deliberately ignoring her psychic sense, and as a result the woman who was like her sister was being possessed by one half of a doomed couple from centuries ago!

Gentle arms wrapped around her, the same arms that had grabbed her in exuberant greetings, guided her around or away from obstacles after Tina banged into them thanks to a vision, and offered comfort or support when Tina needed it. Tina clutched her friend's body fiercely, trying to push away the fear that it might be the last time that she could hug Lizzy warm and breathing. She prayed to whatever force might be listening that it was paranoia and her own anxiety talking, and not another psychic hint.

Since the first time she had seen a ghost, Tina had forced herself to remain impersonal and distant from the visions, refusing to let herself be emotionally affected by the things she saw, though nothing could stop her from feeling physically ill when she saw the prisons and battlefields. Lizzy, so close to Tina's heart, was personal, and the catalyst that held her tight as Tina sobbed out her fear and guilt, purging years of pain and empathic grief.

Finally, the two women simply stood in Lizzy's room, holding each other close. Lizzy pulled back slightly, a hand against her best friend's cheek. "James and I did some research before we decided on the plan. Muskets are notoriously inaccurate, and the angle of the gun means that it probably nicked an artery, rather than hitting Bess in the heart, which means that you have time to get help."

Tina sniffed and tried to pull herself together. They had been friends long enough for her to realize that Lizzy was managing to keep her head because she knew that Tina wouldn't be able to handle her going to pieces as well.

Lizzy's attempts at soothing didn't go as well as she had hoped, because there was really no way to be reassuring about these things, but it was enough for Tina's kick-butt stubbornness to kick in. If Tina couldn't talk them out of the plan, then at least she wasn't going to let them go down without one heck of a fight! "What about John… or is that James… I mean… oh, blast it!"

Lizzy smiled. "We'll go with John, for the purposes of discussion. Unless they got him at point-blank range, the blunt-force impact probably knocked him off his horse and unconscious on the road as he bled out. Like Bess, it was more likely severe blood-loss and untreated wounds. We'll be able to get medical help, so you're not losing me that easily."

It was a sound argument, but Tina still frowned, stepping away. "I would have felt a lot more confident if you hadn't changed to a British accent half way through that, _Bess._"

The accent, plus the slight change in posture and tone, indicated that the Innkeeper's Daughter was back. "Even so, your friend is correct in her surmise. Regardless of what you think of John and myself, we don't want to see either of them dead."

There was a knock at the door before Tina could open her mouth for an especially scathing retort, and James walked in, his more formal and upright stance indicating that John was, if not in control, at least listening in. Tina directed another hard look at him. "I'm still considering just taking Lizzy and running, by the way. So, how were you planning on getting James and Lizzy shot?"

She paused a moment, "And even with my crazy psychic sight, that is something I never thought I would hear myself say."

A slight smile danced across the other two faces. "We thought that through, as well, with some help from the current Innkeepers. This is a tourist town now, so every couple of months they put on a display of some kind. Last time it was a Market Day with everyone dressed up in period clothing. This time they're doing a parade in remembrance of when the Militia spent some time garrisoned here."

John took up the plan. "James will be there to 'show the visitors around', and a mis-fired or bounced shot will hit Lizzy. Likely they will be using rubber bullets, as a precaution, though even those can cause a bit of damage – "

Bess caught Tina's expression and nudged him hard, causing John to hurry on. "But still very little! Anyway, James knows Senior First Aid, so he will run over to check on her. In the panic, someone will forget to put down their musket and he will get hit, too."

Tina growled. "I don't suppose you've considered the consequences for the unfortunate 'soldiers' who happen to fire the shots? I can tell you now, Lizzy's family will go nuts, and James is the Innkeeper's grandson, so getting them angry is hardly a good thing, either!"

Bess looked uncomfortable. "We have. They are descended from the very men who went above and beyond to kill John, and they've clearly inherited more than just looks from their ancestors."

John scowled darkly. "You're being polite, love. The ones who killed us took orders to catch me, and creatively twisted them to justify attacking and taking advantage of innocent civilians. They were terrorizing the surrounding villages before Tim gave them a tip-off, and there is nothing that justifies beating your father over the head when he did nothing but try to stop them dragging you upstairs for God knows what purpose. It was sheer luck that they were so intent on catching me that they didn't dare waste time by…"

He shuddered, torn between anger, fear and guilt, and Bess wrapped her arms around him just as Lizzy had hugged Tina earlier. For the first time, Tina saw the similarities in the two women, though born centuries apart, and for a moment, she almost understood why they had Chosen Lizzy to help. Understood the logic behind it, anyway; 'understand' was a difficult concept to apply to the supernatural.

Bess continued the tale. "Anyway. That aside, they hold the common 'Rupert Attitude' and have been acting very 'holier-than-thou' ever since they moved here a year or so back. It wouldn't be the first time that they've ignored instructions while trying to show off."

John, seeing James's memory of the events, offered a shark-like smile. "It will be the first time that they won't manage to buy their way out of anything worse than a few months of community service, since sheer luck has been the only reason no-one has been seriously hurt so far."

Tina still didn't like it, and wasn't about to give up trying to stop them, but she reluctantly nodded.

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_A/N: First off, I am so sorry it took so long to update. In my defense, being a teachers aide is tiring, and even more-so when half-yearly exams are coming up. Add in my non-fanfiction activities, and I just haven't had the time._

_On the bright side, I'm going on a tour of the UK over the upcoming break, so I'll be able to write some better imagery and hopefully get a bit more inspiration for my fics._

_As always, constructive criticism is appreciated._

_Nat_


	8. Chapter 8

_Disclaimer: I do not own The Highwayman. All praise and credit goes to Alfred Noyes._

_Summary: See Previous Chapters._

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

By the next morning, after several hours of nightmares, Tina had changed her mind again.

She didn't care how set Lizzy and James – or Bess and John – were on their plan, her mind was made up; unless they managed to come up with a different plan that involved no injury at all, Tina was going to do her very best to thwart it. It wasn't like this was the first crazy idea of Lizzy's that she had managed to waylay.

Unfortunately, if Tina had practice at thwarting Lizzy's ideas, Lizzy had just as much experience at thwarting Tina's plans, usually when the brunette thought that Tina was about to over-exert herself into a sick-spell.

Yet another reason to hate her psychic abilities.

Tina tried to suggest that the small historical centre that served as a museum of sorts, conveniently located on the opposite side of town to the fair, would be a better pastime for the day, especially as far as recorded facts were concerned.

Lizzy countered with a raised eyebrow to let Tina know that Lizzy knew perfectly well what she was doing. "The historical centre is small enough that we can do both, and it doesn't do demonstrations. Or Stalls, for that matter, and I promised to bring back souvenirs."

Tina retaliated with a subtly cold look that only years of friendship allowed Lizzy to pick up on, perfectly well aware that she was starting to sound like her five-year-old cousin. "I don't want to go and see a stupid demonstration!"

Lizzy didn't even dignify that with a response, and it was actually Marissa who shot Tina down that time. "Well, if you don't want to go, then you don't have to. You can meet up at the Historical centre later, but Lizzy shouldn't have to plan her life around you just because you're being a stick-in-the-mud!"

James caught the murderous glint in Tina's eye and stepped in before the blonde woman could blow up completely, placing himself firmly between the arguing women. "All right, this is getting nowhere fast. Tina, you can go or stay as you please, but the rest of us will miss the opening if we don't get a move on."

There was a sudden rush for the door as a fuming Tina opened her mouth to say something spiteful. Lizzy cut her off, her voice soft and gentle in the now-empty Common Room. "I understand if you don't think you can witness it, but this is the only chance we're likely to get. I don't want to spend the rest of my life sharing my body with a ghost and wondering what is me and what is her. Wish me luck."

Lizzy jogged off after the rest of the group as Tina glared at nothing. She sighed; better to witness and be on hand when something went wrong than to stay here and drive herself crazy not knowing. Tina followed after the others, muttering curses under her breath.

* * *

If she hadn't been fully aware and worried out of her mind about what was going to happen, Tina probably would have enjoyed the fair. Lizzy had always been better at reconciling herself with unpleasant events or situations, and was talking a mile a minute with questions and random facts as she walked hand in hand with James.

It wasn't all them, of course. Bess and John were now a very strong presence, almost eclipsing Tina's best friend and her beau. Tina supposed that during John's years as a soldier and then as a Highwayman, the couple would have been unable to simply spend time together like this, especially given the strict protocol of Georgian England.

It was understandable that they were vicariously enjoying it while they could, but Tina still had every intention of resenting them for it. She thought about demanding that the ghosts give James and Lizzy their bodies back right this very second, but decided against it. Lizzy hid her anxiety beneath an air of determination, but Tina knew that her best friend was scared.

Bess and John had been waiting for far too long to let fear have any effect on them, and would have to take over at some point _anyway. _If it gave Lizzy some peace of mind, however temporary, then perhaps it was better this way.

But no amount of self-reassurance could prepare Tina for when the announcement came that the weapons demonstration was about to start.

Tina made a final, desperate attempt to grab Lizzy and get out of there, lovelorn ghosts be damned, but Lizzy evaded her with the easy grace of a barmaid well-used to navigating a room of inebriated men.

Tina knew that she didn't have a prayer of catching a man – or the possessing spirit of a man – who had spent several years with his life dependent on _not _getting caught, and the crowd was so thick around her that she could do nothing but stand and watch the events unfold.

* * *

Standing off to the side, Tina felt as though she was seeing everything in double-vision.

Lizzy, putting up a good act of a tourist just enjoying a day out when one of the soldiers pulled her up for a 'demonstration' on how the muskets were used.

_Bess, playing the part of a smiling barmaid for the redcoats who came hunting for her love, until Tim the 'Ostler joined their table and whispered that Bess was the key to catching John._

Lizzy, knowing the plan and trying not to show fear as the two 'soldiers' displayed the separate parts of the musket, their names and what they did, before offering the gun for Lizzy's inspection, barrel first.

_Bess, tied to the foot of her bed, the barrel of a gun bound against her breast, terrified and trying to stay brave as she watched and waited for nightfall._

Lizzy, who knew exactly what she was doing when she nudged the gun just a little. The soldier had forgotten to uncock it, his finger on the trigger as he held it out, and a shot rang out as Lizzy fell back, blood staining her white shirt.

_Bess, who deliberately pulled the trigger of the musket intended to keep her silent, but which served to send a warning when the shot rang through the night as Bess slumped in her bonds, blood staining her white chemise._

James, who turned when Tina screamed at the sight of her friend, instantly starting to run toward the demonstration area, shouting for medical aid. The other 'soldier' panicking, forgetting to lower his own musket as he spun around, and James falling down next to Lizzy, crimson staining his own shirt.

_John, shrieking curses as he galloped down the highway, half-mad with grief, spotting the redcoats and spurring his horse onward, rapier lifted high as he prepared to cut them down, only to be shot and left to lie in his own blood on the highway._

The First-Aid people rushing over, one of them pulling out a phone to make a call as they fought their way through the crowd of gathering onlookers. Tina swearing as she kicked and shoved her way through, forcing herself not to panic at the amount of blood that flowed from the wound just under Lizzy's collarbone.

_The villagers who had refused to leave, staying to tend the Innkeeper and ready to rush to Bess's aid at the first chance, running to the stairs as they heard the gunshot and a muffled, female cry of pain. The scuffle as they ran into the King's Men rushing down, paying no heed to the dying woman above them as they ran after the fleeing Highwayman. The wails of grief when they finally reached Bess, still and cold, drenched in her own blood._

James's grandparents, running at a speed that belied their age, frantic for his safety, followed by Sean, who had dashed to tell them. Both of them stepping back to let the medical team do their jobs, rounding on the 'soldiers' whose 'carelessness' had caused the injuries with a fury totally opposite from their cheerful, friendly natures.

_A soldier who had once served beside John, but had managed to keep his post and his ear to the ground, running beside two poachers who had brought the news of Bess's death, all chasing the grief-stricken Highwayman, hoping to find him before the Redcoats did. Seeing the fallen figure and trying to stop the bleeding, but only able to watch as the fire faded from his eyes._

Lizzy and James being rushed to the Medical Centre, so intertwined with Bess and John that their figures blurred in Tina's psychic sight, though that could also have easily been the tears that Tina didn't even try to stop. Trying to stay calm as she joined the Innkeepers in the waiting room, minutes crawling by as they waited for news.

Tina's senses so dulled, her vision wavering so much between past and present, that she couldn't tell if the distant sound of a Death knell was for Bess, echoing from centuries past… or from the church a mile away, tolling for Lizzy.

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_A/N: Yes, I know I'm evil for leaving you with that kind of cliff-hanger. I'm going away on holiday tomorrow, but I'll try to get the next chapter up when I return._

_In other news, Exams and the last week of a high-school term, especially at the same time, are hell. Double if you're a teacher or teacher's aide. The past two weeks, I've basically got home, changed out of my work clothes, and fallen into bed._

_Reviews would cheer me up and get me going better than any kind of caffinated beverage._

_Thanks,_

_Nat_


	9. Epilogue

_Disclaimer: As always, I don't own The Highwayman. Credit to Alfred Noyes.  
Summary: See Previous Chapters_

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

Lizzy was not dead, though she may soon be wishing otherwise, because Tina fully intended to give her the scolding of her next three lifetimes for worrying her like that. She had even started comparing notes with Madge, James's grandmother, who was planning the same thing for her grandson.

It had been a very close call, but Lizzy and James had been pronounced mostly out of danger, and the worried friends and family could now enter for a brief visit to see for themselves. They were shooed out again almost immediately for 'distressing the patients' with the start of a lecture. Tina took the opportunity for a small dig as they left. "The doctor says that you'll probably be fine, but you're stuck here under observation for a few days anyway."

She ducked into the corridor as Lizzy sent Tina a filthy glare, muttering something that Tina was glad that she didn't catch, and was almost certainly as rude as Lizzy would ever get.

Back in the shared hospital room, the injured girl sulkily lay back, glancing over at her fellow prisoner. "You know, I'm not sure that we were ever properly introduced. Without the ghosts butting in, I mean."

James grinned ruefully. "I don't remember it, but allow me to fix that problem. I'm James Dawson, and pleased to meet you, though I'm pretty sure that your name isn't 'Where-Has-She-Been-All-My-Life'."

Lizzy snickered. "If Puritans weren't so self-deprecating, it would sound like one of their names. I'm Elizabeth Hall, better known as Lizzy."

They tried to shake hands, but the beds were too far apart for them to do more than barely touch fingertips. Both of their beds gave a sudden jerk closer, nearly making them fall off, and Lizzy's long hair fell over his arm to brush James's shoulder as she caught herself. They exchanged almost conspiratorial looks, grinning through the pain of their injuries.

James yawned. "I don't know what the nurses gave me, but I don't think I'll see you until tomorrow. Hypothetically, what are my chances of asking you out at that point?"

Lizzy's ironically raised eyebrow did nothing to hide her blush as she let out an uncharacteristic giggle. "You mean a flurescent-lights night over bland, wholesome food for dinner? Sounds fascinating."

Her attempt at a calm expression turned into a shy, but genuine smile. "But if you mean somewhere nice and non-haunted after we escape hospital custody, then your chances of taking me to dinner are looking very good."

* * *

Tina backed out from where she had been lurking in the doorway as James laughed and a psychic wisp escaped each of them, merging and glowing white before it vanished entirely.

Bess had been waiting for her love to return from his last ride, both of them anticipating a new start, a chance that had been stolen from them by two jealous and vindictive men.

Those men had paid their price, Tim forced into purgatory until he brought the Highwayman and the Innkeeper's daughter together, and the Redcoat captain court-martialled for excessive force against civilians. The two lovers had been re-united through Lizzy and James, and were finally at peace.

A potential future between Bess and John would have been difficult, with the stigma of being a bastard and a former criminal to overcome, just as a future between Lizzy and James would be difficult, thanks to living so far away from each other.

But that didn't make a relationship impossible, if they were willing to try, and it was the potential that mattered. For now, everyone was happy; the spirits were at rest, Lizzy and James were healing, and as far as anyone knew, Bess and John was the only ghost story within three miles, so Tina would be fine.

Until she passed the doors to the operating theatre, and was hit by a flash of a World War II soldier who had been too close to a shell while delivering an urgent missive, and died on the way to surgery.

DAMNIT!

**THE** **END**

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_A/N: And it is finished!_

_I'm almost certainly going to do a re-write at some point, adding more detail and fleshing out the events, working on show-don't-tell, etc, but in the meantime, constructive criticism is appreciated._

_Thanks,_

_Nat_


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